


Joyful Noise

by august_anon



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Ticklee Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Tickler Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Tickling, ler!logan, ler!patton, ticklish!virgil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:14:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23233819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/august_anon/pseuds/august_anon
Summary: Virgil tiredly lets something slip on his Christmas list, but it doesn't turn out as bad as he fears.Warning: This is a tickle fic!
Comments: 2
Kudos: 71





	Joyful Noise

**Author's Note:**

> Can y'all tell I hate summaries and titles lol. Why cannot I not just be feral and write fics at 3am on my phone and then post them 3 days later without proofreading lol. Anyways, another prompt dug up from my inbox! We slowly getting through these, y'all, lol. This one came from iamaddictedtosisterreaderfics on tumblr:
> 
> "Ok, so, winter prompts... I’m not the best at coming up with ideas... But what if the sides were doing a Christmas wish list sort of thing, and one of the sides rights down that they want to be tickled? (I’d imagine it’d be Virgil, but you can choose who it is I don’t really care)"
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy!

Virgil didn’t know  _ why  _ Patton had insisted they all make Christmas lists. It wasn’t like Virgil even knew what he wanted, let alone how to  _ ask _ for things.

And yet, he seemed to be the only one having problems.

Roman had passed out a copy of his list to each of them a few days ago, practically a scroll with the length of the parchment, written in his best calligraphy. Logan had given his out the day after that, typed neatly and formatted well, short and to the point. Even Patton had finished his, scribbled and scrawled in markets and full of doodles because he kept getting distracted. While the contents were technically the same, each of his lists were unique.

But Virgil sat there, barely days left, staring at the notes app he opened in his phone, the text blank. He had nothing. He didn’t know what to ask for.

He could just… wing it? What were things he liked? Virgil liked comfort items like blankets and pillows and stuffed animals. He liked spooky things. He liked Disney. He liked t—

Nope. Not typing down that one. 

But what if he did?

Judgement impaired by the fact that it was three in the morning, Virgil hastily typed the word in and quickly clicked off his phone, tossing it to the side. He’d probably take it off in the morning, or at least before he sent it, but for the time being Virgil could at least  _ pretend _ he was brave enough to admit it. 

Even if just to himself for this time.

The next morning, Virgil groggily added a few more things to his list. Chocolate. Cookies. A new pair of headphones. Simple things that wouldn’t be too imposing or difficult to get him.

“How’s the list coming, kiddo?” Patton asked eagerly that afternoon.

“It’s, ah… it’s coming.” Virgil grimaced, suddenly self-conscious.

Patton gave a sympathetic pout and squeezed his shoulder. “If you need any help, let me know. I know it’s hard to think of things you want sometimes.”

Virgil hesitated. “I mean, I guess it’s pretty much done. I just don’t know if it’s good enough.”

Patton beamed and clapped his hands together. “I’m sure it’s perfect, Virge! Could you send it to us?”

So Virgil sent it that night, sending a screenshot of the list to each of them individually later that night. It felt too weird to put a Christmas list in the group chat.

After sending it, Virgil glanced the list over himself one last time.

_ -warm blankets _

_ -fluffy/squishy pillows _

_ -stuffed animals _

_ -anything Disney _

_ -to be tickled _

_ -candy _

_ -cookies _

_ -a new pair of headphones  _

_ -a new phone case _

—Wait. What?!

“ _ -to be tickled _ ?!”

Virgil forgot to remove that from the list! And it was too late! They’d all seen it by then, there was no taking it back. 

Virgil was doomed. This wasn’t how he had planned to tell them. He hasn’t planned on telling them at all! How could he have forgotten to take that off his list?!

Virgil would just have to hope they didn’t notice, or that their eyes skimmed over it, or that they thought it was a joke. He ignored the tiny, desperate,  _ hopeful _ voice in the back of his head, saying that maybe he’d actually get what he wanted.

He was a mix of mortified, relieved, and disappointed when no one mentioned it the next day. Or the day after that. In fact, Virgil had almost ( _ almost _ ) forgotten about it by the time Christmas Day finally rolled around.

And of course, the day started with Patton waking them all up  _ far _ too early over his excitement for the holiday.

“Five more minutes,” Virgil groaned into his pillow, rolling onto his stomach.

“Now, Virgil,” Patton practically sang, “don’t make me take drastic measures.”

Virgil didn’t reply, which only made Patton let out a faux-displeased hum. Really, it sounded more fond (and almost  _ teasing _ ) than anything, but Virgil was too tired to place why that made a tingle go up his spine.

But then two hands slithered under his mound of blankets and scribbled at his right side and ribs and Virgil yelped, eyes going wide and jerking to the side so violently that he toppled off the other side of the bed.

Virgil popped his head up with a frazzled look, but was only met with Patton’s cheeky grin.

“Be downstairs in ten minutes, kiddo! There’s breakfast to make and presents to open!”

Virgil eyed the door warily after Patton left. Eventually he did get off the floor to toss his blankets back on the bed and Mae himself slightly more presentable. He didn’t want to know what Patton would do if he wasn’t downstairs at the end of his time.

Or maybe he did.

Either way, Virgil left his room and slowly started dragging himself down the stairs. Footsteps sounded behind him, but he didn’t pick up the pace. Not even when an annoyed, overly-dramatic sigh ruffled his hair.

But then two fingers jabbed into the flashiest part of his left side, then his right, then his left again, causing Virgil to make an embarrassing  _ eep! _ noise and jerk away from where the fingers were. He barely swallowed down a giggle.

“Really, Virgil,” Roman said, finally gliding past him, “pick up the pace.”

Virgil grumbled some rude things when Roman turned his back, causing him to turn back around and point at Virgil threateningly before going back on his way.

Virgil stared after him, confused and suspicious, but his brain was still addled with sleep. Yet another poke to his side, this time closer to his hip, had Virgil jumping once more and spinning around to see who it was.

“You alright?” Logan asked, an eyebrow raised.

“I, uh, yeah. Fine.”

Logan hummed, That same teasing hum as Patton, and continued on his way as well. Virgil followed slowly behind.

The rest of the day went much of the same. Random, subtle teases, and pokes or tweaks out of nowhere, setting Virgil endlessly on edge. It wasn’t until halfway through opening gifts (when Virgil’s coffee was finally kicking in) that Virgil’s brain woke up enough to make the connection.

They really went and followed through with his mortifying Christmas list.

But the best part came  _ after _ the gifts.

“I’m done waiting.” Roman announced loudly.

“Ro—“ Patton tried to start.

“Waiting for wh— _ ah _ !” Virgil cried out as he was tackled onto his back.

“To give you the best present of all,” Roman replied cheekily, and shoved his hands up under Virgil’s arms.

Virgil shrieked and tried to pin his arms to his sides, not bothering to hold in his joyous laughter. He cried out again as his arms were lifted above his head and pinned there. 

Logan grinned above him. “Merry Christmas, Virgil.”

Virgil felt fingers start skittering around his knees and tweaking at the ticklish pressure points.

“Pat—!” Virgil squealed.

Patton giggled. “Now what kind of dad would I be if I didn’t get my kiddo what was on his Christmas list?”

Virgil burst into a new wave of cackling as six different hands targeted all-new sensitive places. He howled and thrashed, but he didn’t really want to get away or stop it, and they all knew it.

Needless to say, it was a very joyful Christmas that year.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey hey, thanks for reading my friend! I hope you enjoyed it! Leave a comment or kudos if you feel so inclined, and come visit me on tumblr at august-anon!


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